It always seemed that once a person reached a certain age, probably in their twenties, that adulthood would bless them with the knowledge needed to live a content and fulfilling life. Of course, this is what I thought of as a child and now as a person in their early thirties, I know how ridiculous that is. We make decisions daily that lead us down one path or another, and we might not know where that path will take us. We plan, we work, we stress, and we often don’t know what to do but ultimately, we move forward. I did not know what I wanted to do in life. I have dreams and aspirations, but I didn’t know how to make them true. Food, writing, and creating, as well as being of service to others, is what fuels me. For years, I wanted to go into culinary work but shifted my focus to writing. I went for my undergraduate degree in English Literature with a concentration in Creative Writing. Along the way, I developed an eating disorder and was putting myself in jeopardy. While reaching for my goals, I was simultaneously digging myself into a dark hole. Fighting to recover taught me a lot about myself. It made me realize I was worth fighting for and that I was strong enough to do the work. Life led me to live abroad in China and living a life that felt good. That chapter in my life ended sooner than I would have liked, and I moved back to the States with the sense that I was back at square one. “What do I do now?” I asked myself. Then one day I found a post for a position at an eating disorder recovery facility. That what I do now and it’s challenging, yet it’s also given me a purpose. In this work, I have found a way to help our patients through an experience that I have also gone through. I want to help these girls, boys, women, and men regain their lives. Life has sent me down this path and one of the next stops along this path is graduate school. I have mulled over the decision for a long time and the number one thing that has stopped me is the debilitating cost of higher education. I am still paying off my undergraduate student loans. In the end, I decided that I shouldn’t let this stop me but I could use all the help I can get. I need this scholarship in order to gain the education and degree to work harder to advocate for the care of eating disorder recovery warriors and sufferers. I want to be able to pay it forward one day and I’m hoping that through higher education, I’ll be in the position to do that one day in the near future.

Our culture’s relationship with food is complicated. The constant pursuit for “health” is often a misguided desire to pursue thinness and hoping that in that journey, we land in the world of fitness, body positivity, confidence and happiness. As someone that works with adolescents struggling with various eating disorders, and as someone chooses to stay on the road of eating disorder recovery, I know that the well intentioned “clean eating” journey can be dangerous. In choosing to pursue a master’s degree in public health nutrition, I will be working towards the goals of educating people of all walks of life to feed themselves with natural foods to fuel our bodily functions and everyday tasks. Part of the problem, I believe, is that we are so disconnected from the food we eat. We live in a world that is so focused on running at a fast speed pace that we often are too tired to grocery shop or cook. By taking the time to learn about the importance of cooking our own food, since we don’t all have the means to grow our own produce, we are taking a step towards gaining the power to feed our bodies. After choosing the ingredients, finding the recipe and sitting down to eat a home cooked meal, there is a deep sense of gratitude towards ourselves, if we allow ourselves to feel that. Once we’ve taken the time to slow down and figure out how to cook for ourselves and our loved ones, we can learn what feels good in our bodies and what doesn’t. Maybe going plant-based feels better or choosing to cut out dairy fits our needs better. By developing a relationship with food, we can start to trust our own bodies to tell us what we do or don’t need. Instead of seeking the advice of someone on YouTube to tell us what to do, we can listen to ourselves. That is a step towards power and healing. I’m learning more about the topic of natural foods through reading as much as I can, from respected sources. It’s hard to know who to trust. There are plenty of armchair nutritionists spouting off nonsense and pseudoscience galore. I look for the men and women that are actual doctors and nutritionists that follow a body positive or body neutral view of health. I have a goal to be a resource for people of all shapes, ages and cultures to seek information from and guidance. We don’t need more people hating their bodies and punishing themselves in one way or another through food. I believe I can make a difference through gentle nutrition and education.

Isolation makes a person’s world shrink to four walls and the wild landscape of their mind. That is what happened to me when I contracted COVID-19 and had to quarantine in my small bedroom while my loved ones stayed on the other side of the door. Fears of what would happen to my health long term were all I thought about at first. Every night, I would lay down in bed and worry about my breathing faltering and falling in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I didn’t have severe issues with my physical health long term and recovered completely. What lasted beyond my time in isolation was the fear that I would let my life fly by without being present and taking every opportunity to appreciate life. It took getting sick and thinking that I could potentially die, to see that I wanted to live and not just go through the motions but to feel what it is like to be alive, in every sense. I can’t ever say that I am grateful to the pandemic, knowing the destruction it has caused, but I am grateful for the lessons I can take from it.

“Treat others how you would want to be treated” should have a partnering phrase included when we teach this to children. It should be equally short and sweet like “treat yourself with the same respect you treat others.” Imagine the big difference it would make in how we show up for ourselves, how we talk to ourselves, and how we care for ourselves. We would be able to handle all the hurdles and obstacles that a dip in mental health throws our way with more patience and grace. I did not have patience or grace for myself when I felt lost and like a failure. I did not respect myself when I developed an eating disorder or give myself the care and understanding that I would give others. I beat myself up daily with negative self-talk. The worst of it was that I honestly believed that I did not deserve better. This cloak of negativity was a huge burden. Not only did I feel like I could not live with an eating disorder, I thought that no one could understand what I was going through. An eating disorder is the worst kind of sidekick you could ever have. Yet, it followed me everywhere. It made me think about how to sneak in extra exercise early in the morning before anyone in my house woke up. It spoke in my ears while I was having family dinners. It held up a mirror for me that did not reflect the reality of my suffering body. I started isolating myself. Even amid friends, I felt alone and like these people did not like me, they just put up with me. As a social person, it was tiring to be malnourished and balance seeing friends while working and going to school full time. Keeping up with lying to people all the time was exhausting. Having to pretend that I was fine was maddening because I knew that I could not live like that for long. Anorexia was going to break me, or I was going to break it. One of us was going to win. My goal changed from figuring out how to fake it till I made it, to living an authentic life, to the best of my ability. I started writing about my experiences and struggles with anorexia and slowly started shedding the weight of shame that I had been carrying for far too long. I exercised new skills to cope with change and uncertainty. I lost the will to continue on the path that was littering with self-hate and started to find a better way. It took years. It took therapy. It took trust in myself. I could see the way that the world was warped by diet culture. Social media causes so much harm to impressionable young women that think their bodies need to be manipulated to look a certain way. Advertising shows us images of “ideal” bodies and causes us to believe that we need to eat “clean” to live a healthy life. We are taught that we can’t trust our own bodies to tell us what we need. This leads us to be so disconnected from our bodies and minds that we think we need to listen to random influencers dole out health information that may cause harm in the long run. I can see that now. A few years ago, I would have taken all the advice I could to eat as little as possible to look as thin as possible. My recovery has made it possible for me to see the world and myself differently. I see that my goal so to help others in their recovery and the long journey towards self-acceptance. Somehow, the universe allowed me to take a painful time in my life and use what I learned for the good and I hope that I can reach as many people as possible.

As a little girl, I was told, along with all the other little girls and boys in my class, that I could be anything that I wanted to be when I grew up. While encouragement can set in place positive self-talk and confidence, words can only do so much. We can tell young girls that they can reach for the stars but if we are simultaneously, knowingly, or unknowingly, binding them to the ground with the weight of antiquated gender norms and restricted access to education, then we aren’t being realistic at all. As a society, we can do much more in terms of action so that women can be supported and empowered to be the best they can be. One of the most empowering things that we can be exposed to is to see ourselves in someone that is in a position that we strive to reach as well. By seeing women in positions of management, leadership, and historically male-dominated fields such as science and business, we can open the mind to envision ourselves as women to do the same. Imagine: a girl being raised by her mother that happens to be a CEO of a company or a doctor or a mathematician. The impact of having a role model in that girl’s own home would only help her be able to believe she can do the same or more. Society needs to unlock the doors that have been closed off to women so that the women of today can help blaze the trail for the next generation. I also think that it is unfair to expect women to choose between career and family. Men do not have to make that choice and have never been expected to choose one or the other. Women are resilient, hardworking, and more than capable to pursue a career and enjoy creating a family of their own. This would entail mandatory paid maternity and paternity leave for when a woman is ready to take that step to plan a family, and health insurances to cover procedures to freeze eggs if that’s part of the planning process. Having that security would enable women to have the opportunities to reach personal and professional goals without feeling like they have to sacrifice one for the other. Educating everyone in our society to treat all individuals equally is also crucial. While this is difficult to do, especially if people endorse gender norms that benefit them, we have to strive for equality. Equality in pay, equality in the hiring process, and the benefits offered is the only way to ensure that the playing field is as equal as it can be. By giving space to women to be empowered in the professional and personal sphere, we all benefit. There are infinite possibilities for ideas, creations, businesses, and more if society prioritizes equality for women and men.

As adults usually do, I have had my fair share of adults ask me throughout my childhood year ask me, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” From Egyptologist to pastry chef, to secretly wanting to be an actress, I had big dreams to have a big career. Most of the time, the person that asked me the question would smile and nod and say something along the lines of “that’s cool!” and “you can do it!” and went on with their day. It’s been a very long time since anyone has asked me what I want to be when I grow up, most likely because I’m already an adult and have dabbled in different careers like customer service representative, English teacher, and a counselor at an eating disorder facility. I still might not have a complete idea of what I want to settle into for a career but I know that I’m working towards that by starting a master's program in public health. Whenever I start to doubt myself, I remember my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Nears. At that time, first-grader me wanted to be a children’s book author and illustrator. My parents were incredibly supportive. My mom would buy me notebooks so that I could jot down my ideas and start creating stories and worlds with my words. My dad would say that if I was going to be a writer, I had to be the best writer that ever wrote. He didn’t really say that, but the sentiment was there. I was always making up stories in my mind, and of course, I was the main character. Most of it was probably me trying to solve situations in which I would find myself at school, like the girl that would blame things on me and made me feel targeted. I also knew the power of words. Spoken words could cut through someone’s day and change it for the better or knock it down into a spiral. Written words had that ability to resonate farther in time and space than I could physically be able to. Words were simple yet words strung together impeccably could take your breath away and stick in your mind’s collections of quotes. As I introverted and shy kid, I also preferred books and writing to talking. When Mrs. Nears, that wonderful first-grade teacher, came up to me on the last day of school and presented a small book of poems, she likely had no idea what an impact it would have on me. I felt seen. Here was this woman that had a classroom full of children that were much more charismatic and vibrant than I was, and she gave me a boost of confidence. On the front page of the book, she had written a sweet message about reaching for my dreams and believing in myself. While I did not stay in contact with Mrs. Nears, what she did for me that day has given me the confidence to always reach for my dreams. Those dreams have changed throughout the years but that fire to fight for my goals remains, thanks in large part to educators like Mrs. Nears that believed in me.

When I first though of what legacy means to me, I imagine how my action, values and words affect the people that remain once I’m gone. The legacy of people that I admire, like the write Jane Austen, comes to mind. She was a witty woman, writing about her culture and way of living, in a way that still resonates today. Her work has inspired countless other creatives to take on writing, create films or dedicate their lives to researching the time period she lived in. Her legacy has brought together people from all walks of life from all over the world to rejoice in the satisfaction of talking about characters like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. To leave behind a legacy means to have made an impact on the lives of others in big ways that make waves for many future generations, or in small ways that help inspire people to live in a way that is meaningful. I think that it is important to think about ways that your life can be an inspiration to others, as well as how the work that you dedicate your life can resonate in culture and communities. The individuals that make that a big difference do so in a way that is authentic and unique. They were called to a cause or to an idea in a way that led them to dedicate time to what made them tick. Legacies can also mean the impact that you make while you are still alive. I think that every interaction that you have with our people can leave a mark on someone. If you say a kind word to someone, that can make a huge difference on their day and can snowball into a positive chain of events. Legacies are part of our daily lives and we don’t take the time to realize that. Often, we think that we can’t make a difference or don’t even think about how our actions can have lasting effects. I want to leave behind a legacy with my work as an eating disorder recovery counselor. Through being a present, positive and thoughtful presence in the lives of the patients I see daily, I would like to leave an impact on all the patients. I hope to inspire them to try their hardest, to believe in themselves and to know that people care about them and want the best for them in recovery. Personally, I hope to leave behind a legacy of a woman that overcame her own eating disorder and fought hard for the big dreams that she had, despite her own insecurities and uncertainties. Legacies are a way that the memory of a person continues long after they’ve passed, or once you no longer see someone due to life circumstance (like moving to a different state), and how their actions and words impacted you. I hope that my legacy makes a difference in the lives of others, the way that my role model’s legacies have impacted me.

2020 was the year that felt like it was twenty years long in itself for me. When the pandemic put the country on lockdown and the majority of the working force transitioned en masse to work from home life, I kept going into work like nothing had changed. I work in an eating disorder recovery center which is essential to maintain up and running. Not only was the isolation of social distancing the perfect breeding ground for recover warriors to relapse, but the swirling and inescapable doom we all faced was allowing for eating disorders to sneak in. Eating disorder patients often have a certain bank of character traits such as people-pleasers, perfections, and often, controlling. They need to have control over their lives and there was such a major loss of control for so many people in 2020. People lost jobs, lost routine, lost joy, lost income, and in the worst of cases, lost lives. I realized how important it was to have the space that our facility offers to our patients. Their lives are already upended by having to battle with their eating disorder and work to overcome it; fearing that they weren’t going to have a safe place to do that would have been devasting and possibly deadly. I faced my own battle with COVID-19 early on in the pandemic. It was debilitating. In my early twenties, I had been diagnosed with an eating disorder and stayed in its grip for years. Through perseverance, pain, hard work, and a strong support team, I recovered. Yet, when I found myself quarantined in my room with a literal deadly disease attacking my immune system, mental health and digestive system, I almost relapsed. It was so tempting. No one was watching me or keeping me accountable. I couldn’t taste food or smell for a stint of time. Any appetite was out the window. Luckily for me, I was wise and did not want to lose what I had worked so hard to gain: a better and caring relationship with myself. Allowing an eating disorder to come waltzing back into my life was the opposite of being kind and caring to myself. I will not forget how close I came to losing it all again during those two long weeks of isolation. By the time the end of the year rolled around, I was glad to put it behind me. 2020 took away so much joy and connection from me. I love to travel and explore but I was grounded completely and limited to my home and workplace. Yet, I came to realize that I want to go back to grad school to pursue a master’s degree in public health nutrition. I had overcome an eating disorder and in 2020, overcome COVID-19. I know that I want to give back and help others and what better way than to put my own life experiences and the knowledge that I can in a master’s program to help people struggling with eating disorders and disordered eating. I can’t say that I would ever like to relive 2020 again but I am grateful to have learned some lessons and have a new goal for my career and future.

If my thoughts had been transcribed during the period of my life that I had an eating disorder, it would be sorrowful reading material. I would certainly not recommend it as something to read to pass the time. Doubt inked into my day to day, doubt about whether I could be a writer, about whether I could finish my undergrad, doubts about whether I would ever find enjoyment in food, doubts about so many things that it’s impressive to recall all the work I did during this time in my early twenties. I thought that no one could relate to what I was going through and that I was broken physically and mentally. People would give up on me and toss me to the side, I was so sure of it. No one would or could ever get to know me well enough to love me because I didn’t trust myself to let anyone in and I told myself this every day. The words I said to myself are words that I would not say to anyone, ever, no matter how much I might not like them. They were words that cut deep and stunted my abilities to see that I was in pain and that I could get out of my eating disorder with work and patience. While I did make many friends while I was in the thick of my eating disorder and throughout my recovery journey, I was not fully myself. It was as if a less vibrant version of myself was out in the world while the real me was trapped in the confines of a jail constructed by my struggles and my eating disorder. I hid my behaviors from friends and family, they didn’t know I was compulsively exercising and restricting in every possible way. I lied to people I cared for. I isolated myself. I was someone that I can vaguely recall no but someone that I do not recognize as myself. It was as if a facsimile of my person was going through the motions until I was set free. Through the incredible support of my family, my primary care doctor, and a therapist, I found my way. It took years. I was resistant at first. Who were these people that thought they could tell me what’s what, they didn’t know me? Why was my family making me go through this arduous process of gaining weight? My malnutrition mind was not helping out at all and through regular meals, mechanical eating, and therapy, I was able to find my body was asking for more. More of the delicious foods I loved and had deprived myself of for far too long. The therapy helped me with the thoughts that most people that have gone through a similar journey worry about, which is that we’ll eat ourselves to obesity. Trust me, this does not happen. I learned and am still learning to listen to my body, she’s smart and knows what she needs, I just have to be mindful. Not an easy task at all and one that requires so much practice and grace. I graduated with my undergraduate degree in English Literature, concentrating in creative writing, in the middle of my journey to finding myself through recovery. I wrote about my experiences and talked about it and felt that nasty shame slowly give way to strength. So many women could relate to my story and friends that I was open with could lend an ear when I questioned my recovery. After a short career as a teacher in China, I started working with an eating disorder recovery facility as a counselor. I could understand deeply what our patients were going through. Their fears were once my fears. Their resistance to recovery was once mine too. Although I did not share my own specific recovery story with them, I could offer support by listening to them and validating their struggles. I could tell them what I know deep in my heart is true: that recovery is worth every tear and every pound and every day that passes. My journey is not over, of course. I am still in recovery and make conscious decisions every day to keep on this path. I’m not impervious to the diet culture rhetoric that is so pervasive in today’s world. I also have discovered that I want to continue helping the eating disorder recovery warriors that are out there every day fighting the good fight. This fall I will start a program for a master’s degree in Public Health Nutrition. My life so far has not been an easy one, but I know that all that has happened in my past has led me to my present and will help me make a difference.

Growing up, we didn’t talk about mental health. At least back then, we did not talk about triggers, struggles, or emotions. We had to toughen up and work to be better than our parents because they had moved to the United States so that one day their children would succeed. And of course, give back to the parents that had done so much for us. But all of that pressure to be a “good girl”, to be perfect, to fight to the top of whatever mountain faced me, led to a significantly battered state of mental health. I was scared to take risks and I doubted my abilities to succeed. In short, I felt lost and found solace in anorexia nervosa. I remember watching a movie in health class in high school in which a pretty, popular, white high school girl developed anorexia. I didn’t relate to her at all. I didn’t see myself as pretty or popular and I am not white. So when I doctor diagnosed me with an eating disorder, it seemed unbelievable. I did not fit the bill of the stereotypical eating disorder sufferer that is projected in media. In the years that passed, I worked hard to gain some of the mental health that I possibly never had and gained some confidence back. I lived abroad and found that I could make it on my own in a new country and that people liked me and weren’t just pretending. I connected with other women that had struggled just as I had and could understand my experience. They knew what it is like to suffer in silence while pasting a smile on one’s face so that no one would know the turmoil inside. They knew what it was like to be present in body, but absent in mind. After moving back to the US, I started work as a counselor at an eating disorder recovery facility. While I don’t share my previous struggles with an eating disorder with our patients, I can relate. I see the pain and can remember vividly how that felt. I know what behaviors they are exhibiting and can almost hear the thoughts racing in their mind and they sit in front of a plate of food, scared to take the first bite. Scared that if they give in, they unless a ravenous beast that will eat and eat and eat, never stopping. I do my best to listen to their fears, their worries about the future, and their reluctance to give into recovery all the way. I would like to do more to help this community of eating disorder recovery warriors by studying nutrition in grad school. My past is essential in helping me understand how I can help and how education is desperately needed to help today’s youth fight against diet culture. I see a career in dismantling stigma against speaking about one’s struggles with eating disorders or disordered behavior and building back a community of strong, accepting, and compassionate people.

It happens all the time: someone asks someone what their favorite movie is and it’s like their mind goes blank. They can’t even name one! Have they actually ever seen a movie? In all fairness, it’s hard to keep track of what I even did this morning, let alone what movie I have seen in all my years of life that deserves the title of my favorite movie. With all that in mind, there is one movie that I come back to, time and time again, that brings me joy, comfort, a warm sense of familiarity, and that butterfly feeling that comes with watching two characters fall in love. My favorite movie is “Pride and Prejudice” directed by Joe Wright (also lovingly known to me as the “Keira Knightly version”). First, the music is a character in its own right. It moves the viewer to feel a sense of calm as the camera pans out over the field as the sun rises, it adds tension as Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet quarrel, it builds as the love between the two characters also builds and grows. It’s simply beautiful and enhances the scenes. It’s no wonder that the composter, Dario Marianeli, won an Oscar for his work on the soundtrack. Wright brought a fan favorite to life on the scene in a way that invites people that are new to Jane Austen’s work and people like me that go so far as to join a Jane Austen club to talk all things Austen. The movie is visually stunning and makes one almost want to live in the 1800s with no electronics to speak of. There is no question that Pride and Prejudice will be there for me whenever I want and that is why it’s my favorite movie of all time.

I didn’t think I’d ever hear the words coming out of my doctor’s mouth: anorexia nervosa. This couldn’t be true, I thought. Sure, I’d lost some weight and exercised a lot, and focused on eating small, “clean” meals but this is what everyone is trying to do, right? Turns out that perfectionism, stressful home life, a feeling of being lost and not knowing what I was doing, and the turmoil of leaving the comforts of teenage years into the choppy waters of early adulthood all combined into an eating disorder and body dysmorphia that took years to come out of. Even now, nearly a decade out from my diagnosis, those old words from my eating disorder voice come to haunt me when I’m in a state of stress. Now, I work as a counselor at an eating disorder recovery facility, and I see not only how needed it is to have more voices advocating for a break down of diet culture, but I see that there is the added pressure of social media. The patients that walk through our door often remind me of myself. They can’t see how far they’ve gone down the rabbit hole and that the only comfort they have is an eating disorder that could potentially kill them. As a woman of color, I want to advocate not only for eating disorder recovery warriors (because that’s exactly what they are: tough, strong, and fierce fighters), but specifically for those women of color that are out there suffering in silence because they don’t fit the mold that society has deemed that an eating disorder sufferer should look like. I want to give shape and form and space for people to be real about their struggles and to change the script. There’s enough stress in the world to last a lifetime. It’s time we stop added diet culture stress that ultimately breaks down our mental health. I’ve been through and am still on the journey to a better relationship with myself and I want to help others do the same.

As a woman of color, I feel that my life experiences dealing with diet culture and having had an eating disorder are important to share. With the advent of social media apps like Instagram and TikTok, diet culture is more pervasive than ever, and it has found ways to filter into spaces that it doesn’t belong, such as the body positivity movement. Unfortunately, the health space is filled with people of privilege who are (most times): white, cisgender, and financially secure. It’s time for other voices to be given the mic, as well. Often, inspiration comes from seeing people that you can relate to doing things like sharing their experiences, to give you the courage to do similar things. That is what I hope to do with my writing, to share my story and experiences to empower others. I believe that my writing stands out from the sea of content on the Internet due to the voice that my writing has. It is clear, concise, relatable, yet it still carries that beauty of details, such as how a bite of mashed potatoes can taste salty and creamy and feel smooth and warm, like a lifeboat after months of restriction. Here is a sample of what I have written before for The Zebra Press: It is not even a full year since the United States first started attempting to control the rapid spread of COVID-19. As the death toll rose and the restrictions on what we deemed “normal” was rising, epidemics of a different variety surfaced as well. One of those was mental health. We realized how important things like routine, community, and socializing truly are. In our socially isolated states, horrible squatters like depression and anxiety moved into our bedrooms and home offices. In my case, an old roommate came knocking at my door when I contracted COVID-19. As much as this truth hurts, I had other pressing concerns when I was trapped in my confined quarters while my family feared for my health.. The hypnotic and sickly-sweet voice of my eating disorder came to give me a sense of control when I lost all control of everything else. This was not a cold I could just power through or a stomach bug that would go away after 24 hours. I was alone and sick, but an eating disorder could keep me company, right? I hope to share more of my story and share what I learn as a start my journey to get my Master’s in Public Health Nutrition. I want to be the person that I would have liked to have seen when I was a little girl, struggling to figure out who I could be. With time, resources, and given the ability to leap, I can make that difference in the world.

Quiet, respectful, obedient, and studious. Those are the words to describe what was expected of me as the eldest daughter of two immigrants who envisioned a life for me that glittered in the distant future. Growing up in Southern California, I would see men off the exits of freeways with bags of oranges beaming in the sun, doing what they could to make a living. Spanish was the language spoken in the aisles of grocery stores and on the playground during recess. Mana, Fey, and Selena played on our stereo while we drove here and there. We moved from the world I knew up to Oregon, just outside of Portland. It was cold. It was gray. It was certainly not the vibrant place I was used to. Now, I see Portland as home but at that time, it was not. Even though my life had changed drastically, I kept my focus on school. I knew that I wanted to be a pastry chef. I pictured myself on the Food Network, cooking and baking Guatemalan and Ecuadorean foods that Americans did not know about. I would have money to open a restaurant and have colorful, tasteful décor and play the music that was the soundtrack to my childhood. I held this dream throughout high school. Along the way, I developed an eating disorder and by the time I was in university, I had changed career focus and was struggling with my mental health. I was pursuing a degree in English Literature with a concentration in creative writing. With my words, I could express what I could not speak out loud, the nebulous and destructive thoughts that ricocheted around in my mind. Through my writing, I connected with other people that were also struggling with mental health issues and eating disorders. I wrote through the tough moments and I wrote through recovery. I decided that all my life experiences would help me to help others in need, particularly women of color. There is a misconception that people struggling with eating disorders should look a certain way: extremely thin, waifish, and young, and in most cases, white. That excludes all the women of color that are struggling with eating disorders that do not fit that mold and they fall through the cracks. I know that I can help women of color and am working to pursue a career in public health, focusing on nutrition. I hope to be a source of information and to advocate for the mental health of women from all walks of life. The Empower Latin Youth Scholarship would help me greatly with the high cost of graduate school that is so prohibitive for me and has made me delay applying to grad school for years. This scholarship would enable me to give back in the future to other Latin youth that have goals and aspirations as big as mine.